Paid to the Pirate by Una Rohr

Chapter 13

Charlotte

Icouldn’t explore the ship in a chemise. I wouldn’t deign to ask Colt for something to wear. But the man who’d stood outside the brig, Conks… he seemed to at least respect a woman’s dignity.

I found the old sailor near the doorway. Maybe he’d stood by to eavesdrop and spread gossip amongst the crew. Or could he have waited, ready to intervene on my behalf?

Were we friends in another life?

Before I could speak, Conks flourished the tonic I’d refused.

Blushing, I grasped it and said, “Thank you.”

After gulping the bitter, medicinal concoction, I asked the kind crewman, “Could you help me find my dress or, at least, something else to wear?”

He stroked his graying whiskers and said, “Johnson’s already got something set aside for you.”

We found Johnson below deck, having sourced a pair of clean breeches and a blouse with frilled-trim. It wasn’t clothing fit for a woman, but it was better than ambling about in nothing but my slip.

“No boots,” the tall, skinny crewmate said. From his height and his voice, I recognized Johnson as being the eloquent man who’d announced Captain Colt back in our tavern. “I can’t get you those without the captain’s approval.”

“This is more than enough, thank you,” I replied, grateful. Although I didn’t fancy exploring the ship barefoot, at least I had something to cover my body.

Not that it matters come moonrise, I thought, heart skipping a beat. Colt will easily strip it all off again.

Neither Johnson nor Conks spoke much, waiting with patient curiosity and filling the air with an anticipatory tension.

“I – it’s been a long time since we’ve talked,” I said, unsure how much of my supposed lady act I wanted to drop around these two men. But I needed to glean some information, otherwise I’d be lost, and that could leave Colt with a massive advantage if he ever saw through me.

“Aye, and I’ve so missed our chats,” Johnson replied with a twinkle in his eye.

“Are you as angry with me as your captain, for my supposed crimes?” I tried.

What crimes, I wanted to ask. What is it he thinks that I’ve done?

“We’re glad you’re alive, first. And we’re disappointed you ran off without saying goodbye or explaining your actions, second,” Johnson said with a sad, kind smile. “You know we’d have understood. But we know you had your reasons. Just like we know you have your reasons for whatever it is you’re doing right now.”

We. He continually said we. Were Conks and Johnson… together? In the Penningham’s tavern, I’d heard stories of such partnerships as common amongst pirates, but I hadn’t known any couples to speak openly in our small settlement.

Johnson had replied with genuine vulnerability and care. I couldn’t help but whisper, “I’m sorry to have let you down.”

“’S’alright,” Conks chimed in. “These things have a way of working out, in the end. Though I dare say the captain’s gonna make your end pay for it, until you tell him the truth. I’ll keep a bottle of my special tonic on hand for the mornings.”

I couldn’t have turned any redder. The fact that Colt planned to punish me, intimately, was horrid enough. Having it whispered about by the crew was utterly humiliating. Probably to Colt’s delight.

I’d planned on probing for more information, but instead I stammered, “I – uh, better get dressed now.”

After being left alone and changing into the clothing provided, I made my way above deck to take in the salt air. It was a bright, beautiful day, with only hints of clouds dotting the sky. Men bustled at their work stations or lazed about chatting through breaks.

My appearance immediately drew attention and I could see the mixed reaction in the crew’s eyes. Some men regarded me with suspicion and anger, some with relief and pity, and others with small-but-welcoming smiles, half-hidden beneath tipped hats.

Sometimes all possible reactions flitted across a single man’s face in rapid succession.

Robert the Red’s unconcealed rage stood out amongst the crew. Redhands, I’d heard him called. His gaze turned my knees to jelly and I had the intrusive thought that he’d have been better nicknamed Bloodhands, because he looked as if he wanted my blood upon his.

My throat caught. What had I done? Could it be true?

I backed away, hurrying to the emptiest part of the deck. The constant rocking of the ship didn’t disturb me and that disturbed me. Some part of my brain clung to the idea that this was all a part of an elaborate ploy, that I’d never really been aboard a pirate’s ship, let alone a member of the crew. But even I wasn’t stubborn enough to deny it any longer.

The only way I could bear this knowledge was if I’d been a prisoner and Colt’s treatment of me confirmed I had, in some manner.

Curious.

I didn’t know what to do with myself throughout the day and spent hours staring at the sea as if it could give me answers. I watched the sun move across the sky with increasing dread. When my legs stiffened, I ambled about the ship, but whenever I saw Colt, I immediately scurried in the opposite direction. Clearly, the crew had been instructed not to engage with me because they watched my movements with accusing eyes but never dared to speak.

Midday, Conks brought me to the galley and introduced me to a polite but reserved crewman named Miguel. Responsible for preparing everyone’s meals and for maintaining their rations of food and spirits, Miguel made me a meal of eggs and biscuits. The taciturn cook said nothing but joined me as I ate, and a warm feeling of security enveloped me. In my shrouded past, had we dined together many times before? The way his eyes darted to me and quickly looked away told me we’d meant something to one another. And if we weren’t allies before, I wondered if I could gain his friendship in the present? If I could manage private access to the food stores, I could poison them and take down the entire crew in one swoop. I wouldn’t have to report back to Daniel or send our townsmen into battle.

Of course, there was the obvious problem of not having access to any poison. Perhaps some could be acquired when we docked in Nassau.

After I’d eaten the last crumb from my plate, Miguel startled me by mumbling, “I know you had good reason.”

“Pardon?” I whispered, staring into his deep brown eyes. “What do you mean?”

“For whatcha done,” he muttered, looking at me with almost pleading eyes. “For stealing the gold and-”

Miguel quickly cut himself off and I stiffened, hearing someone enter the door at my back. I turned to see Conks had come to collect me.

Was I but a common thief? No, it couldn’t be true.

Better than a common whore, argued a voice inside my head.

You are, said another voice. Colt whipped the whore to a wailing release last night.

I’d gone mad. Having no past for so long and being so close to answers, the space in my mind opened, filling with voices frantically searching for the truth.

“Thank you for a lovely meal,” I told Miguel, and he nodded as Conks and I took our leave.

“I wanted to check on you but I’m actually in the middle of some work with Johnson. Will you be alright on your own for the rest of the day? I’ll return at supper and we can eat in the galley.”

I heard what Conks wasn’t outright saying -- that I was to stay away from the crew. Either because Colt had ordered it or because perhaps Conks worried for my safety.

“Of course I’ll be fine.” I laid a gentle hand upon Conk’s bicep and whispered, “But I was wondering about the supposed gold in question…”

Conks eyes flashed and I realized it was true. Was I a common thief?

Surely, I had a reason. Maybe it was my gold to begin with and I was only stealing it back. Maybe I needed it to escape this Godforsaken ship.

“I was just hoping that the absence of the gold… didn’t affect you personally.”

Conks’s eyes clouded with sadness. “Are you asking if the captain took it out on me when you stole his bag o’ bits? Nah. That was the least of his worries that morning.”

I couldn’t say why exactly that relaxed me, but it did. I didn’t want to have hurt the kind man before me -- although I’d apparently disappointed him, as Johnson said.

“I don’t think the captain cares much about the gold, considering what else you stole.”

I snapped to attention. What else could there be?

“But don’t you worry, the crew don’t know about that. ’Cept Robert and maybe one or two others. If they knew, I don’t think you’d survive on The Dread Night very long. The captain wasn’t planning on telling anyone until he had the profit to be shared. Too much could go wrong beforehand.” Conks shrugged. “And it did, though never in the way he presumed.”

My head swum. No. I’m a lady, not a thief.

“I reckon he’ll wring a confession out of you one way or another before he ever lets you off this ship,” Conks said. “So it would be in your best interest to tell the captain what he wants to know. The longer you wait, the harder you’ll make it on yourself.”

I blushed at the knowing look Conks gave me before taking his leave.

Alone once more, I explored below deck, surprised to find the ship much tidier than I’d expected. Storage was neatly arranged and labeled. Rations and supplies were tracked with precision. And despite the chore it must be to keep a ship clean from mud and mold, the cargo hold was spotless -- save the area for livestock, understandably, which bore a distinctive odor that couldn’t be easily masked.

As I explored, I was shocked to find several chickens and even a goat aboard. Perhaps my eggs had come fresh from the small coop.

“Caged like me,” I whispered to the noisy little creatures.

Captain Colton Pearce ran a tight ship. I tried to reconcile the murderous pirate to the man with such immaculate and exacting standards for cleanliness and had difficulty. I tried to mesh both truths with the image of the devil who kissed me and whipped me and found it all just a pile of contradictions.

The rest of the day passed in a daze. I dined with Miguel, but Conks joined, making it impossible for me to try to probe for information. I could tell I was being contained, as the rest of the crew supped above deck. Their raucous laughter and songs carried down to the galley, filling me with a strange sense of longing or wistfulness I didn’t understand.

Not to join them, I reasoned. Simply to sing. I miss singing, especially for a crowd.

Rum was served and with unsteady hands I drank all of it from my cup. Whatever was to befall me that evening, I considered it a blessed fortification. The only other thing I could do was renew my vows not to break, and to strengthen my resolve to bring down these vile pirates from within.

After we finished our meal of cod, cabbage, and a surprising array of fresh fruits, I had nothing left to do but wait with increasing fear. At dusk, I stood at the stern while the sun melted into the horizon.

Don’t go, I begged. Stay and light the sky. When you plunge this earth into darkness, my world will darken along with it.

At the thought, the image of Colt’s black eyes passed through my mind. Certainly, such a color for eyes did not exist. Unless some devilry had blackened them to match his soul.

Nonsense, Charlotte, I warned. They’re just a deep brown.

I’d have to keep my wits about me to survive whatever brutal treatment the captain planned and to outmaneuver the monster. Those keen eyes seemed to glean more than other men saw.

Even before he’d had free view of all my private, womanly areas, I thought with shame and resentment.

I squeezed the railing until my knuckles turned white. For some reason, I squeezed my thighs together too. My heart raced and I could feel myself dampen with sweat in a very un-ladylike manner. I looked up to see the moon shining brighter, bolder.

Don’t, I begged that glowing orb. Hide yourself. Retreat and keep me safe.

But the moon was as cold and unfeeling as the captain himself, whose ominous footsteps I now heard thudding behind me.